Father is Away again, when will he be back, haven’t seen him in years, don’t know where to send the card, there’s a stack of them in my head, another pile in the closet, wonder why he never wanted me, mom said he was a fairy, I suppose I’m a fairy too, what does a father do, who invented Father’s day anyway, someone with a cruel sense of humor, well, I have friends in the same boat, when I mention it they tell me to shut up, it’s a real emotional issue for them, emotional doesn’t do anything for me, not where I’m living now, inside the bars of my mind, and the bars of my surrounds, could have done with a father I suppose. No one on the inside worries much about father’s day. I stop writing this, the time for the visit is up, have been waiting for years to celebrate it, sitting in the visitors room the warder calls me, he’s not coming son. I wonder how it would have turned out, if my father had shown up once. I’m seventy years old, and still a prisoner of my emotions, amen.
Every child born is born with that internal message, Mama and Dada. Amazing that those two words are globally recognized, everyone understands them, then pretends not to understand what they mean, amen. Well, if those words mattered, and they do matter to every child born, how come no effort is made to support them, amen.